You know you're in a recession when...

...in broad daylight, at the corner of a busy intersection, near Union Square park, a man stands outside a display window of your favorite comic book store (Forbidden Planet), pulls down his pants and takes a dump. Yup. Full-on 2-girls-one-cup pile o'caca outside the store as dozens of New Yorkers whizzed by for their evening commute.

It's been a while since New York City has let out its wild side. Many may cringe, but piles of caca, puddles of vomit, and streams of fresh piss were common in the city before Mayor Giuliani, and I've mixed feelings about the return of public defecation. It's gross, but it's what I loved about the city when I first got here. And many of my friends felt the same way too. That is, you never knew what you were going to see. Sure, I'm glad I don't have to hurdle past man-dung, but the forces that eased my walks also neutralized the city's character.

For the last 10 years, the city has been stripped of its spontaneity: name-brand stores, all carrying the same name-brand products, the same trees, the same style of sky scraper, and lots of similarly-clad folks all trying to fit in. Industrialization at its apogee. The New York I fell in love with, however, was full of people who didn't give a fuck about fitting in: public poopers, public sucker-fuckers, home-cooked fashionistas and the occassional nudist. It seems the tide is turning and the faint scent of pubes and poop is in the air. Be still, my heart.

Hooray recession! Bring it on, Bush! I just hope our President gets the chance to pull us deeper into the muck before his term is over. Them maybe I'll really love New York City again.